I can't really bring myself to grieve too much on the page, in public. But I needed to put something here to commemorate this day.
I miss you already, Andy.
I've got a candle lit for you.
I hope ... so much,
But that hope has no answer.
It just sits, not disappointed, not fulfilled
In limbo, not quite hell
I'm so tired
I don't want to sleep
I, I, I ... this shouldn't be about me.
But there's no you within reach
I can't decorate you with my care
(Banners that say I love you)
The care falls to my feet
Shredded, rumpled
From trying to hang it where you can see
I have to pick it all up
And carry it around
Hoping you can still read it
And that it comforts you
The Journal
-
The cover is embossed with gold foil, artwork of an ancient Persian garden
with a pair of deer. I open the new journal. The spine crackles faintly,
and t...
3 weeks ago
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